


Trust

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 2nd Age - Rings, General
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrimbor worries about making the Rings and Annatar reassures him.  Mild Celebrimbor/Annatar - just kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Celebrimbor bent closer to his manuscript, trying in vain to concentrate on his work.  An irritating strand of hair fell into his eyes, and he reached an ink-stained hand to push it back.   Then he heard a quiet breath and felt a hand brush his cheek and pull the hair behind his ear.  
  
"Celebrimbor," a voice from behind him said warmly.   Celebrimbor twisted around and saw a tall, handsome man standing behind him.     
  
"Annatar!  I was just thinking about you.  Please, sit," he said motioning to one of the few chairs that was not covered with papers.  
  
Annatar sat, leaning back into the chair with a languid grace.  He was holding two glasses of wine and handed one to Celebrimbor.  
  
"What's this for?" asked Celebrimbor.  
  
"Drinking," said Annatar.  His lips curved in a smile, and Celebrimbor resisted the urge to kiss them.  
  
"I gathered that," Celebrimbor said dryly.  
  
"A celebration, then.  To our first great success."  He raised the glass and drank.  
  
"Oh.  Yes," said Celebrimbor.  "I had not thought of that.  He took a sip, not really tasting the wine.  
  
"What is wrong?  We have created a Ring of Power—you should be excited."  
  
"I am," Celebrimbor said quickly.  "But I—Do you think we should make the Rings?"  
  
For the first time Celebrimbor had seen, Annatar looked shocked.  "Of course.  Why should we not?" he asked.  
  
"Because…"  He tried to think how to describe what he had been brooding about all day.  "When my grandfather made the Silmarils, he did not think a war would be fought over them.  What if something similar happens with the Rings?"  
  
"A sword you forge could be used against you in battle, but you still make them," Annatar pointed out.  
  
Celebrimbor winced.  "Not unless I fight against other Elves, which I will not—no matter what some people may think," he added bitterly.  "They seem to think any Fëanorian-make work will come to evil, and it becomes hard to ignore their whispers."  
  
Annatar stood and went to Celebrimbor, then bent down to caress his cheek and kiss him.  "Easy, love.  You don't need those people.  They would only hold you back."  
  
Celebrimbor closed his eyes and let Annatar's words and touch comfort him.  He stood to kiss Annatar, leaning against his body.   He let his head rest on Annatar's shoulder.  It was always wonderful to hear Annatar speak like that—like he was confirming what Celebrimbor had always suspected.  
  
With an effort, he gathered his thoughts again.  "It is not the same."  
  
"What is not?" Annatar asked, frowning.  
  
"Your sword analogy."  
  
"You are right—it is not.  A sword can only be used to kill, but our Rings will be used to make Middle-earth as beautiful—no, more beautiful than Valinor."    
  
Celebrimbor smiled at that, but his dark thoughts remained.  "But what if they are right?  What if my works do lead me to evil?"  
  
"They will not.  Your grandfather chose his path, and you have chosen yours.  Some shared blood does not make a destiny, love."  
  
"Annatar, you are a great Maia and wise.   Promise me that you'll make sure I and my works never turn to evil," Celebrimbor said.  He sat up to look at Annatar.  Strangely, he could have sworn there was a flash of triumph in the Maia's eyes and an odd smile on his lips, but in the blink of an eye it was gone.  
  
"I promise you, I will not let you come to evil," Annatar said gently.  
  
"Thank you," said Celebrimbor.  He closed his eyes, feeling as though a heavy burden had been taken from him.  
  
"Trust me, love," said Annatar and kissed him.  
  
"With my life—with my fëa."  
  



End file.
